From the corner of his eye, Mattox saw Yulen tilt his head in a way he recognized. Glancing over at his father, he saw the next step—the slow smile. “I never used the word ‘assassinate,’” the battle lord slowly remarked.
Borlee’s face paled considerably, and sweat popped out on his forehead and chin. “Yes, you did. You said ‘take him out.’ That’s to assassinate.”
“No. I said ‘take him out,’ meaning to have him removed from his position as battle lord. Have him jailed, or exiled. I never said ‘assassinate.’”
Borlee motioned with his head in Caralas’ direction. “So why is she covered in his blood?”
“Is she?” Mattox taunted. “How do you know it’s not the Blood’s blood?” He indicated the bottom half of his breeches, which were also stained red. “Or mine?”
The second was speechless.
Yulen waved at the guards. “Regardless, because of your duplicity, you’re to be taken into custody, where you’ll be tried by a tribunal of your peers. Take him to the dungeon.”
“Wait! Stop! Listen to me!” Borlee struggled. “I was just following orders!”
Yulen paused. “Whose?”
“Tanger’s.”
“Lie,” Johna announced.
“It wasn’t Edge he wanted killed! It was his daughter!” the second blubbered, trying his best to divert the blame off himself. In the circle of torchlight, they all saw the front of his tan breeches turn a dark brown as a stain spread across his crotch.
“How did you contact the Blood?” Yulen demanded, his voice cracking like a whip.
“Tanger gave me a handful of coin. Told me inquire among the Mutah for an archer.”
“Why? What excuse did you use so the Mutah wouldn’t become suspicious?” Mattox questioned in an equally acidic tone. They were willing to hear the man out, as it would reveal more of Borlee’s plan.
“I was to tell them he was looking to hire them to help train our own archers.”
Mattox eyed the second. “Then why didn’t Tanger send his own second out to find a trainer? Your story doesn’t make shit sense!”
“Because it’s all a lie,” Johna confirmed.
Borlee suddenly tried to wrest himself out of the guards’ grasp. He managed to dislodge one man, knocking him off-balance. The soldier stumbled backwards and fell against the tent as Borlee then reached for the other soldier’s weapons belt.
Mattox reacted immediately and dove for the soldier’s sword to prevent the second from taking it, but the man grabbed the dagger instead. Borlee took at side swipe at Mattox, nicking his cheek just below the eye with the tip of the blade. Mattox landed on the ground at the guard’s feet as Borlee leaned over to stab him with it.
There was a scream of anger as Caralas launched herself at the man. Jumping upon the second’s back, she grabbed him around the neck with one arm and unsheathed her own knife with her other hand as Borlee raised the dagger to plunge it into Mattox. With one hard pull, she slit Borlee’s throat from shoulder to shoulder.
The dagger fell from his fingers, and Borlee collapsed to his knees as he futilely tried to stanch the flow of blood pouring from his wound. His eyes found Caralas standing less than a yard away and panting heavily from her exertions, the stained knife in her hand dripping with his life’s essence.
His mouth opened and closed as he tried to say something. With a cough, he managed to utter “Bitch!” before toppling forward onto the dirt. His body shuddered slightly as he fought for one more breath, then stilled.
Mattox scrambled to make his way over to Caralas and pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his bare chest. Yulen had the guard check to make certain Borlee was dead.
“At least you’ll never have to worry about him putting another price on your head,” the battle lord remarked dryly.
She didn’t answer, but instead, threw her arms around Mattox and burst into tears.
37
Duty
Mattox lifted Caralas into his arms and carried her to the main dining hall. He’d first been inclined to take her to the lodge, until he remembered Edge’s body was still there—unless someone had already ordered it moved. But there would still be the evidence of what took place there and the blood, and it would take some time before it could all be cleaned up. Faintly, he wondered if it would leave a permanent stain in the wood floor.
A guard hurried ahead of him to open the side door. Once inside, he took her to the table by the fireplace and set her down on the bench. A kitchen worker named Tiffanie came to see what he needed, and stopped in fright to see the amount of blood covering them.
